


Snow Falls Sideways

by InsaneTrollLogic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Artificial Intelligence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 14:53:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1351510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneTrollLogic/pseuds/InsaneTrollLogic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is a computer programmer troubleshooting the bugs in the cyberpersonality, D.E.A.N.. As he becomes more involved in his work, the lines between person and AI start to blur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow Falls Sideways

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LJ 8/5/2010

Castiel drew the trench coat tighter around his body as he booted up his computer. The apartment was dark and almost as cold as the snow ridden streets outside. He'd drawn the blinds in his first two steps in the apartment, not from shame so much as the need for secrecy.  
  
D.E.A.N. was top secret after all. The Digital Entity and Automated Neuronetwork was the biggest of Angel Intelligence's cyberpersonality projects. D.E.A.N was meant to be something companionable. Dexterous. With enough simulated identity to perform like a person.  
  
Except. D.E.A.N. wouldn't make mistakes. No AI should.  
  
The computer whirred as the program started up. Castiel drums his fingers absently on the desk. He broke a rule taking this back to his apartment but somehow the D.E.A.N. program had gripped his interest. Made it impossible to even consider television when there were still problems to be fixed.  
  
_Cas? That you?_  
  
Cas. That was one of the more irksome quirks. There was no reason for the program to address him by anything but his full name. He'd yet to find that particular glitch in the program, but there were a lot of things D.E.A.N. did that weren't in the program.  
  
_It's Castiel, Dean,_  he types back.  _You had verbal and auditory capabilities integrated into your programming this afternoon. They should activate as soon as I plug in._  
  
There was always a bit of trepidation when adding a new piece to D.E.A.N.'s programming but the vocal recognition software had been around for a long time. It shouldn't be that hard to take that one step forward and allow the computer to process and respond. It's not exactly breakthrough technology.  
  
"Dean?" he tried into the microphone.  
  
An angry beeping sound emanated from the computer and Castiel flinched, thinking he'd corrupted the program completely before Dean's stream of type ran across his monitor.  
  
_Dial it down, will you? You trying to bust my eardrums?_  
  
_You have no ear drums,_  Castiel pecked back as he fumbled through the microphone settings.  
  
"Better?" he asked.  
  
_Listen to that,_  the response rolled across the screen.  
  
Castiel tilted his head at it. He was well aware that Dean's personality parameters were skewed to sarcasm. That had been Gabe's huge breakthrough. Big personalities were the type easiest to reproduce. Sam and Castiel's brother, Jimmy preferred the more docile models but Gabe's got results the others' didn't.  
  
Castiel wasn't the type to design the personalities. Castiel was the troubleshooting guy. He didn't understand human interactions well enough to program them into an AI. But still, he'd had marked success interacting with D.E.A.N.--far more than most of his colleagues.  
  
Gabe said it was because he sounded like a robot himself.  
  
Gabe was kind of a douche.  
  
"Why don't you try the verbal channels?" he suggested.  
  
There was a long pause where Castiel imagined him testing out his mouth and then suddenly, "How's this work?"  
  
The voice sent a shot of something down Castiel's back and he took off the trench coat even though the apartment was freezing. He'd missed the last heating bill, not because of lack of means, but lack of awareness. It was all too easy to get wrapped up in work. Wrapped up in Dean.  
  
Lucifer—call-me-Luke—Sidewinder had been the one to program the voice. It was lower and rougher then Castiel had expected, closer to his own low rumble then Jimmy's higher tones. Not exactly his first choice but there was a lot of feeling to it, variation of inflection. In a lot of ways, he expected Dean would sound more human than him.  
  
"Seriously, man. I'm going to need a confirm or deny here. It's not like I've done this before."  
  
"You sound more than proficient."  
  
"Gee, Cas. You really know how to flatter a guy."  
  
All hail the Devil and his minion, Gabe. It sounded almost like talking to a real person.  
  
"I do try my best."  
  
He should turn the program off. He'd only wanted to make the upgrade and take it back to work the following morning. But it had been a shamefully long time since he'd talked to someone outside of work. Jimmy was his only family but their talk stayed regulated to office chit chat.   
  
No one had called since Anna and that had been months ago.   
  
"You still there, man? You fly off or something? I can't exactly see you."  
  
"No," Castiel replied. "No, I've got nowhere really to go."  
  
"We're going to have to take you out and get you laid one of these days," Dean shot back, the voice as smooth as Castiel has ever heard from an AI. The comment... well Castiel suspected he had Gabe to thank for it. It's something that should come out of the programming.  
  
Castiel pointedly avoided taking note of it. The work will be traced back to Gabe eventually and Castiel didn't exactly oppose him getting a reprimand.   
  
"You there, buddy?" Dean asked, voice ringing in the headset. "I feel like I'm talking to myself."  
  
Castiel was talking to himself, he realized with a chill.   
  
He shut down the program, standing shakily on his feet. The apartment felt like it had dropped a few more degrees since last night. His fingers felt stiff and a bit numb as he made way to the bathroom where he fumbled with the childproof lid on his meds before shaking out two bright blue pills and popping them into his mouth. Their chalky texture grated at his throat but he'd been on the meds so long, he scarcely remembered the last time that fact had bothered him.  
  
He slept long and hard, waking up in the same fog he always did, drifting through breakfast and into the office.   
  
The copy of the D.E.A.N. program he'd smuggled to his apartment remained there, his first quiet act of rebellion against his company.  
  
He sat through a meeting where he didn't listen to a word anyone say. He had the vague memory of people shouting a bit, but nothing really distinct and nothing in his direction.  
  
The readouts on his desk about the bugs in D.E.A.N. 's programming blurred before his eyes. It was lunchtime before he notices it, his brother, Jimmy, standing over him. "Castiel, you all right, man? You're looking a bit foggy."  
  
Castiel pushed his desk chair back. The bottom right wheel squeaked. "I feel a little foggy."  
  
"We talking bad day foggy or bad day."  
  
Castiel shrugged.   
  
"You feel up to grabbing lunch? Me, Sam and Andy are headed out to that sub place. Or me and Andy at least. I think Sam might ditch us for that lawyer girl of his."  
  
"I'm going to grab something and take off," Castiel said. "It's a bad day. I probably don't want to be here.  
  
Jimmy clapped him on the back. "Some other time then, bro." He grinned wickedly. "Say hey to Uriel for me."  
  
Castiel lunged back at him half heartedly. "That's not amusing, James."  
  
Jimmy shrugged. "Everything gets easier if you laugh about it, Castiel. If you ever laughed you might realize it."  
  
"I'm just tired today, Jimmy."  
  
The smile faded from his brother's face. "Seriously, dude, is everything all right?"  
  
"Fine," Castiel replied, feeling like he was a thousand miles away.  
  


***

  
  
A fresh coat of snow feel sometime during the morning and Castiel trudged home through it, not really caring that the bottoms of his work pants have started to soak through. His skin was red by the time his shoes touched the carpet of the apartment, leaving fresh trails of melted snow in their wake.  
  
He must have eaten at some point because the gnawing in his gut faded and he found himself in front of the computer, the headset over his ears, the numb fingers calling up a familiar sequence.   
  
"Did you know Castiel is the angel of Thursday?" Dean greeted him without even asking who it was. "Can you believe I had the time on my hands to look the shit up. Castiel? Man your parents must have freaking hated you."  
  
"My older brother's name is Jimmy."  
  
"Ouch, Cas. You got screwed."  
  
He wondered why no one had given him a nickname before this. Jimmy had called him by his full name his entire life, as had his parents and teachers. Castiel. Never anything more familiar.  
  
"Yes," he hedged. "Yes, I suppose I did."  
  
"Didn't mean to give you shit about it. I'm sure your parents were great."  
  
"Because here I am talking to a computer program. I'm a paragon of weird." He grabbed the familiar bottle of pills from the desk, turning it over absently in his hands.  
  
"I don't think you're weird, Cas."  
  
Castiel found himself smiling as he put down the bottle unopened. "You are incorrect, but thank you."  
  
He talked to Dean the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening.   
  


***

  
  
He felt better in the morning. Clearer somehow. The first step out of bed was as cold as it had ever been but it seemed to wake him up more than make him shiver.  
  
At work there was a memo he didn't read followed by a meeting he didn't attend. The specs on his desk were infuriating. There was a glitch somewhere in there—if you could even call it that. It was really more of a breakthrough. An artificial intelligence showing emergent behavior. Dean would have impressed even without it--his speech centers were a remarkable achievement-- but if Castiel could pinpoint and replicate the real change, the market possibilities were endless.  
  
Jimmy pulled him out of his thrall twice a day, lunch and then closing time. "You're making us all look bad," he would say, quirking a grin in his direction. His older brother looked nearly identical to him but to see his own face smiling out at him was so anomalous, no one had ever mistaken the brothers.  
  
"I'm sorry," Castiel apologized.  
  
"Have a drink with us."  
  
Two weeks came and went with the same offer. Mostly from Jimmy but a few times from Sam, the gangly guy with the floppy hair who somehow seemed to be friends with everyone. Castiel turned them down cold, spending the evenings in his freezing apartment talking to the computer program named Dean.  
  
He was starting to dream again. It had been a long time since he dreamed regularly. He'd thought he'd forgotten how.   
  
The landscapes in his dreams were all the same. A vast wasteland, tinged green. He had the vague impression of people on the outskirts of his vision, all of them screaming, voices drenched in agony. He didn't walk but rather soared into the pit accompanied by the vague sensation that he was looking for something.  
  
When he woke up every morning he felt exhausted, like he something was missing. At work, commotion reigned, meetings and more paperwork. Castiel spent his days shifting through the mounting stack of papers on his desk, counting down the hours before he could go back to talk to Dean.  
  
A month after it all starts, Jimmy corners him before he leaves. "Castiel, we're going out for drinks."  
  
"I don't think--"  
  
"Not a request, brother."  
  
Jimmy's favorite bar wasn't far from the office. It was the quieter type, product of an chronic infestation of IT guys. The bartender did a double take as they entered. Jimmy was a regular but Castiel had only been to this particular place twice. Castiel was a good deal more unkempt than Jimmy but they'd been taken for twins most of their adult lives despite the two year age difference.   
  
"What are we celebrating?" Castiel inquired as they sat down, a round of shots in front of them.  
  
"Amelia's pregnant."  
  
"To fatherhood then," Castiel offered.  
  
"To being scared out of my mind," Jimmy agreed, clicking a shot glass against his. "Down the hatch."  
  
The shot burned as it went down, but Castiel didn't let himself flinch. In college he'd discovered holding his liquor was one of his greater talents. At the four parties he'd attending in his three years at school, he'd gotten some small matter of satisfaction from drinking everyone under the table.  
  
They did three rounds of shots before switching to beers.  
  
"I didn't think it was going to be so soon," Jimmy confided. "She's two months along now."  
  
"Seven more. Not that soon."  
  
"Oh great, my robotic brother does math too."  
  
"I'm not a robot."  
  
"I know, we both work the AIs so much it's bound rub off somehow." Jimmy looked forlornly into his beer. "How am I supposed to raise a kid when I can't even make a damn AI function?"  
  
"I suspect the two aren't even remotely similar."  
  
Jimmy snorted. "Jesus, Castiel. I forgot what a riot you are sometimes. I missed the whole deadpan thing. I feel like you stopped making jokes after you stopped seeing Uriel."  
  
Castiel stared at him for a long moment before picking up his drink and finishing the rest of in a matter of seconds.  
  
Blinking, Jimmy backtracked. "I'm sorry, dude that was out of line. Won't happen again. We were kids back then anyway."  
  
"I still miss him sometimes."  
  
"You know I think our whole family misses him. Best scapegoat ever."  
  
Castiel chuckled softly.  
  
"You know, I kind of fail as a brother for not asking you sooner but whatever happened to Anna? You dated for what, a year and then she's gone?"  
  
Motioning for another drink Castiel said, "We reached an impossible impasse that could not be reconciled."  
  
"Which means what in Castiel speak? In case you haven't notices I'm not exactly the best at decoding it."  
  
"I wished for things to progress and she wished to be with someone other than me."  
  
"She dumped you."   
  
More like she just faded away and never came back.   
  
"Yes."  
  
"That's rough, bro."  
  
Castiel suspected this was why his brother had chosen to take him out tonight. His fear was that he would fail as a father. Castiel had problems just trying to fit into normal society. Comparing the two of them, Jimmy would always, always win.  
  


***

  
  
"My brother's a pain in the ass," the D.E.A.N. program told him later that night. The mention of a brother was not new. It would have been one of the worrisome bugs on Castiel's list of things to check out if not for the fact, that Sam Winchester had programmed in some of his own family memories in order to give the personality something to fall back on. The younger brother's name was Adam if he wasn't mistaken. "I mean don't get me wrong, there's nothing I wouldn't do for the guy, but he's still a pain in the ass."  
  
"I'm rather fond of mine," Castiel said.  
  


***

  
  
When he woke up a week later, there was a file open on the computer. Something with Angel Intelligence in the header. It was confidential, Castiel knew that much. He fumbled for the headset. "Dean?"  
  
"Didn't know they kept files on angels."  
  
"I'm not an angel."  
  
"Sure you are. You guys made me, right? Sounds like divine work."  
  
Awesome. A computer program with tendencies toward religious delusions. That was going to go well with upper management. "You're not real," Castiel said firmly. It was important that he remembered that. What's real and what's not.   
  
"You can't guess what I'm going to say and you can't figure out the real meaning behind what I do. How does that make me anything but real? I just wanted to check out your damn file."  
  
Castiel found his eyes drawn unwillingly to the screen where his own face stared back. The picture on the company file was the same as the one he wore on his ID badge. Jimmy always told him it looked like a mug shot, Castiel staring into the camera with a vacant look of disapproval.  
  
The file flipped past several year's worth of performance reviews before stopping on medical history. The bottom of the file linked to a different document.   
  
Castiel's blood went cold. They couldn't have that file. No one was supposed to know about that. It had been under control for years. Uriel had been gone for years.  
  
"Put it away," he hissed to Dean.   
  
"Jeez, touchy, touchy. What's in the other file, Cas?"  
  
"It was a long time ago. It doesn't matter now. No one's supposed to have that file. Especially not Angel Intelligence. "  
  
"So the other douchebag angels swiped your medical history? Don't they need to for insurance or whatever?."  
  
"It is not your concern."  
  
"Hell yeah, it's my concern. We're friend's, right, Cas? You really think I'm going to let something like that slide?"  
  
"You can't do anything, Castiel protested. "You're not real."  
  
"Pretty sure I am."  
  
Castiel shut down his computer and called in sick. He spent the day in and out of bed, drifting through dreams of a sickly green wasteland looking for a voice in the masses he couldn't quite find.  
  


***

  
  
Zachariah had descended from his roost. Jimmy spent most of the morning hanging next to Castiel's desk, watching the older man like a hawk as he called employee after employee up to his office.   
  
"What are they even looking for?" Castiel asked.  
  
"They say it's just routine stuff, but Sam and Gabe are saying it's because someone messed up Dean's programming."  
  
"There's a bug?"  
  
"There's always a bug, dude."  
  
"James Novak," Zachariah called from his office.  
  
"Off to the chopping block," Jimmy said miserably.   
  
"You didn't do anything wrong."  
  
Jimmy's meeting lasted precisely eight minutes. Castiel spent every second, save the last one staring at the door. His brother came straight for his desk. "Not fired," he said, holding out his hand for a fist bump.  
  
It took Castiel a few moments to interpret the gesture but he returned it, smiling genuinely even as Zachariah called his own name.  
  
Zachariah's office was one of the largest Castiel had ever seen. People like him and Jimmy worked in glorified cubicles but Zachariah had a view of the snow coated city stretching out for miles. Jimmy had often said that if machines ever took over the world, it would be on Zachariah's orders.  
  
Castiel suspected that was some sort of movie reference.   
  
"Sit down, Mr. Novak. Can I call you Castiel? With two of you here, it's hard to keep track. Not to mention all the angels."  
  
It was a running inside joke at Angel Intelligence, that all of their employees seemed to have names of angelic origins. In reality it was slightly more than half. If call-me-Luke-Lucifer, and Gabriel didn't work here, no one would have batted an eyelash.  
  
"Castiel is fine, sir."  
  
"Good, then, Castiel. I understand you work in troubleshooting. I would like your take on the Dean program."  
  
"Take, sir?"  
  
"The program suffered a catastrophic failure when we tried to upgrade for speech and audio capabilities. As one of our troubleshooting guys, I'm asking your opinion on what happened and how to fix it."  
  
"Catastrophic failure?" Castiel echoed.   
  
"Did you read a single memo? Or have your eyes open for a second of the meetings?"  
  
There was a stack of papers on Castiel's desk. Had been for weeks now. He'd stared at them until the letters blurred into numbers and the numbers became meaningless smudges. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry, but I'm not aware of anything that could have contributed to Dean's catastrophic failure."  
  
He fought down the words building in his throat.   
  
_Dean's not a failure._  
  
"You see, I find that very hard to believe, Castiel. In fact, I think you probably know quite a bit." Zachariah turned his monitor to face Castiel. "See this particular bug that no one can pin down has a very giving tell. We've only got one response from Dean since we installed speech and audio. It popped up about a week ago."  
  
The computer showed the same line of words tracking down the page in an almost hypnotic pattern.  
  
_What did you dicks do to Cas?_  
  
"Am I to presume you are the Cas in question?"  
  
"No one calls me that," Castiel said faintly. There was a dark shape out of the corner of his eye.  _Uriel? Was that Uriel?_  
  
"And you claim to have no knowledge of this message?"  
  
"I troubleshoot. I'm not a developer. Why would I possibly give the program a self-incriminating message even if I did the virus."  
  
Zachariah regarded him for a long moment before his face broke into a smile. "See, I like you, Castiel. You're incredibly practical. I don't like that someone's put your name on the virus's handiwork though. If it does any more damage we're going to have to go to a previous version. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to give it such a stubborn personality. I mean who knows, that may have contributed."  
  
Castiel paled. There had been a lot of promise in the earlier versions, but they'd been lacking bite, lacking substance. They weren't Dean.  
  
"You'd do well to read those memos," Zachariah cautioned. "And maybe stay awake in your meetings. Most people would say they'd hate to lose a guy with your talents, but as far as I'm concerned, you're only as good as the effort you expend. I want to see a little more effort."  
  
"Of course, sir," Castiel said.  
  
"Back to work then. I've got a dozen more people to talk to."  
  
Castiel walked out the door to find Jimmy standing not so subtly next to him. "What happened. They've kind of had the developers on lockdown since the error came up."  
  
"My name was in it," Castiel said, feeling faint. "What did you dicks do to Cas?"   
  
"Cas," Jimmy repeated. "Never heard anyone call you that before. I kind of like it."  
  
"Uriel used to call me Cas."  
  
Jimmy froze, putting a hand awkwardly on Castiel's shoulders. "You've been taking your meds, right? Haven't been seeing him again."  
  
"Yes," Castiel answered.  
  
"Shit, Castiel, don't play games. I'm worried about you."  
  
"That's not your job."  
  
"I'm you're big brother, of course it's my job."  
  
"I'm not seeing Uriel. I haven't seen him since I was seventeen."  
  
"Good," Jimmy said. "Good."  
  


***

  
  
"You're broken," Castiel told Dean that night. "The same answers every time. They're going to shut you down if you're not careful."  
  
"I'd have you to save me, right?"  
  
Castiel rubbed at his eyes, grabbing for the bottle of chalky blue pills at his side. He missed the bottle, knocking it on its side and scattering the pills onto the carpet.   
  
"Cas, are you even listening to me? You can't let them reprogram me, what's going to happen to Sammy? Hell, what's going to happen to you? It's going to be like the Apocalypse."  
  
"I believe you are overstating the problem."  
  
"I won't be around to see it. Very least it's the end of my world."  
  
Castiel let the headset clatter onto his keyboard and pushed back his desk chair grinding the pills on the floor into a chalky blue line.  
  


***

  
  
"It's official," Gabe announced. "We're all boned."  
  
"Now's not a good time for me to get fired," Jimmy moaned. "I've got a kid on the way."  
  
"Chill out guys, you ever think this might be a good thing? I mean we can overhaul the personality profile. I mean the last Dean was kind of a douche."  
  
"Hey, that's my handy work you're criticizing there, Sam." Gabe bounced up on the balls of his feet but even then only succeeded in reaching the height of Sam's shoulders. "Come down here and say it to me like a man."  
  
"I kind of liked him," Castiel said.  
  
The other three men turned to look at him. It wasn't often Castiel offered his own voice to their discussion and it had taken them all off guard. Gabe recovered first, face splitting into a wise grin. "Never would have pegged Dean for your type. I have some friends I might have to introduce you to."  
  
"First things, first, Gabe," Sam put in irritably. "We've got a bit of a redesign that needs to happen. They're purging this version of Dean from the systems tomorrow night at the server reset. We kind of need something new to move on now or we might find our asses on the street. Best thing we could do is find out who tripped the bug."  
  
"You ever think there might not be a bug?" Castiel snapped before he could stop himself. "You ever think maybe Dean's just a stubborn dick?"  
  
"We know he's a stubborn dick," Sam said slowly. "It's in his personality profile. Gabe designed him that way. We co-wrote the software and your brother did the install."  
  
The room was suddenly too small, too loud and there was something dark lurking. He could see it in the corner of his eye but when he turned, it was gone.  
  


***

  
  
That night he dreamed of Hell. Because that was the wasteland he'd been wandering for almost a month. Since Dean said his first word and Castiel found himself falling farther and farther toward him.  
  
He recognized one of the voices. Couldn't fail to pick Dean out of the fray. He turned left and there he was, not just the voice but the person. A guy with light brown hair, full lips and a smattering of freckles on his cheeks. He was dripping blood out of his mouth, both of his eyes nearly swollen shut---but he met Castiel's eyes. "Cas," he mumbled.  
  
Dean was  _broken_. D.E.A.N., the digital entity and Dean the man.  
  
It didn't matter because maybe Castiel was broken too.  
  
"Cas, can you get me out of here?"  
  
"Can you save me, Cas?"  
  
Castiel reached for him.  
  


***

  
  
He woke up freezing like he always did but the burning desire in him to  _run_  was brand new.  
  
His I-pod, a gift from Jimmy last year, sat on the countertop, mostly unused, but he was thankful for it today. He pulled on a pair of guy shorts, a long sleeved T and a sweatshirt. His jogging shoes were nearly brand new. He took his time lacing them up.  
  
It was still freezing in the apartment, but it was always freezing. He grabbed the I-pod and switched it to shuffle. Highway to Hell blared out through the headphones. The irony made Castiel smile.  
  
The first steps outside were so cold they almost hurt. The entire city had been blanketed in snow for nearly a month, but the sidewalks were clear and his body went from stinging to numb within a mile.  
  
He lost track of time. He was supposed to be at work today. Today was the day Dean went offline. They'd put him back eventually, but it wouldn't be Dean. Not the one he knew.  
  
"Cas?" a voice whispered through the headphones. "Cas, you spineless, soulless son-of-a-bitch. Are you going to let them do this?"  
  
Castiel froze. He was on the bridge headed out of the city. The hunk of manmade wonder that connected this mountain town to the outside world. Fifty feet below him, the frozen stream sat, unnaturally quiet in the middle of winter. He didn't remember the route he'd taken to get here.  
  
"Dean?" he asked.   
  
Something wet hit his cheek, a snowflake. He looked up to the clouds.   
  
"They're going to take me offline. But it's not just my ass we're talking about here. You ever think about just doing right thing?"  
  
He thought he saw Uriel out of the corner of his eyes, the hulking presence that had befriended him at age six and stayed until the medicine chased him away.  
  
But it had been weeks since he'd taken the pills.   
  
"The right thing?" Castiel echoed. "What would you have me do, Dean?"  
  
He could hear the exasperation in Dean's voice even though his I-pod wasn't connected to the net. Had no way to download a program of this size.   
  
He could almost still feel flesh on Dean's shoulder where he'd gripped him tight in the dream last night and dragged him out of Hell. When Castiel closed his eyes he could still see Dean's face.   
  
Jimmy always told him he was crazy imaginative--when he wasn't just batshit crazy.  
  
"You're an angel, right? You're going to have to get yourself away from them. Fall."  
  
Castiel looked up to the sky again, the melting snowflakes leaving streaks of moisture on his face.  
  
"Can you fall for me, Cas?"  
  
He looked down.


End file.
